I Promise You
by domina tempore
Summary: Weiss visits Nadia's grave to say goodbye, for the last time. Promises are made. Canon through the end of "30 Seconds".


**Alias: **_I Promise You_

_Disclaimer: Alias and all of its characters, locations, etc. belong to their respective owners. I'm just borrowing, and it's a humble effort at that. No copyright infringement intended!_

_Author's Note: This scene was originally written as part of what was to be a much longer story (my story "This Is War" was also a part of that); but I found that one to be in need of some serious re-working and put it in the "WIP library" of my brain. But this bit, I thought, stands on its own alright, and I really like it. And it BOTHERED me that Weiss never came to Nadia's funeral; they had such an adorable relationship and I would have expected him to show his face. So I needed this. _

**ov0vov0vo**

**Nadia Santos**

_**Some people are beautiful**_

_**She defined beautiful.**_

_**She is loved.**_

Eric Weiss studied the white marble headstone on Nadia's grave, ran his fingers over the carved angel perched on the top. In his mind, it was a beautiful likeness of the woman that he loved. Pure white, shining in the gray light of this dismal day. Arms raised as if praising the Lord. Full of life. That was how he wanted to remember her. His Angel. Bright and vibrant and full. Alive.

He hated the fact that he had missed her funeral; but in a selfish sort of way he was also relieved. He'd wanted to see her one more time, but he didn't think he could have handled his last memory of her being that; her body still and lying in the dark coffin. He wanted to remember her brilliant smile. Her shining eyes.

To be fair, he had tried to be there; his flight had been delayed by the weather and he'd arrived only just in time to see her coffin being lowered into the grave. The sight had nearly killed him, and he hadn't stayed.

But he had to come back, now that the hole in the ground was filled and everyone was gone. He'd never had the chance to say goodbye to her, and he wasn't going to get another one. This was the last way that he would have ever wanted it to happen, but it was all that he had left. With great care, he laid three white roses down in front of her grave, a stark contrast to the freshly turned dirt. He fought back tears. "I should have been here for you," he whispered. "I should have been here…"

He didn't know how long he knelt there, staring. A light rain began to fall, soaking his shirt, but he barely registered the change. He felt numb to the world. Alone. A warm hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality. He looked up sharply to find a familiar face.

"Jack!" He stood up, brushing at the mud on the knees of his jeans. "I didn't think anyone else would be here today."

"Indeed," Jack nodded, handing Weiss his umbrella. "Do you mind?"

"Uh, sure…" Eric watched as his old boss knelt down where he had just been and added eight pink roses to his white ones. His hands hovered over them briefly, a tender look on his face that surprised Weiss. Then his hands clenched as he stood up, and he was the same man that he'd always been. "Mr. Bristow, that's really nice of you; you know you didn't have to do that."

"They're from Sydney and I," Jack explained, taking the umbrella back but allowing Eric to remain under its cover. "She would have come herself, but Isabelle is finally asleep for the first time since the funeral and I insisted that she rest as well." He cleared his throat. "And I come here every day."

"You do?" That surprised him. Jack was a good man, but he had never been particularly emotional or attached to people, other than Sydney and her mother. Weiss was incredibly grateful for his apparent devotion to Nadia – whose very existence had once been a slap in the face to him – but he didn't understand it.

"I was the one who found her," Jack said, the words tumbling a little too quickly from his mouth. "I'm afraid I feel somewhat responsible for what happened; I've know Sloane for a long time, I should have seen the signs and warned Nadia what was happening to him. I should have protected her."

"Jack, this isn't your fault," Weiss reminded him. "No one could have predicted that he would hurt her after everything that he did to bring her back."

"Still, I should have seen it coming," he fumed, his voice rising to an uncomfortable volume. "I should have stopped him!" Eric flinched back from his anger, but he met his friend's wild stare and held it until the rage left his eyes. Jack took a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, Agent Weiss; I know how much you cared for Nadia."

"I still do, sir."

"Right. Well, anyways, I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened; I wish I could have done more." In that moment, Weiss heard the unsaid words in his voice. He had failed to protect Nadia, but he was not going to let Sloane get away with what he had done. That was both encouraging and frightening; if Jack Bristow was out for revenge, then you could be sure he was going to get it. The thought was almost enough to make him feel bad for Sloane…Almost. But he'd killed Nadia. The man had to pay.

Weiss gave his friend's shoulder an awkward pat. "If there's anything you need," he promised, "just call."

Jack gave him a dark smile, and Eric knew he understood that he was willing to help him take down Sloane, whatever it took. "I will, thanks." With a nod and one brief, tender glance at the grave, Jack turned and walked away, his footprints streaking the wet grass. Eric watched him disappear from sight, then turned back to address Nadia, imagining that she was sitting in the place of the stone angel, listening.

"I'm going to make this right, whatever it takes," he promised her. "Your father can't hide from what he's done; he's gone way too far this time, and we're not going to give him time to burn his bridges before we take him down. This time, we're putting him on ice. I'm going to make sure that he pays." He imagined he saw a ghost of a smile on her face before she faded away and was replaced once again by the carved statue.

_fin._

**ov0vov0vo**

_A/N: Like I said in my earlier note, I think this story can stand on its own. But it would also be quite easy, if my Muse or any of you fine readers wanted, to continue with this. And I admit I sort of like the idea of Jack and Weiss working together to take Sloane down. So what do you think? Could we go somewhere with this?_


End file.
